Work Text:
It all started because Oliver didn’t feel like he was enough.
No matter what he accomplished, there was always something missing. His grades could be higher. His room could be cleaner. He could practice longer, study harder, smile more. Perfection was always just out of reach, and every time he thought he’d finally caught up to it, the finish line moved farther away.
The thoughts never stopped.
If I’m not perfect, my family will be disappointed.
If I’m not perfect, I won’t get into the college I want.
If I’m not perfect… Cooper will realize he deserves someone better.
He couldn’t remember exactly when things changed. It wasn’t like he woke up one morning and decided to stop eating. It happened slowly, quietly. At first he skipped breakfast because he was running late. Then lunch because he was too busy studying. Before long, eating became something he felt he had to earn—as if food were a prize for being productive enough, smart enough… perfect enough.
Most days, he never felt like he’d earned it.
⸻
The digital clock on his desk read 12:30 a.m.
The apartment was silent except for the soft tapping of Oliver’s keyboard and the occasional scratch of pencil against notebook paper. A half-finished chemistry assignment glowed on his laptop screen, equations blurring together no matter how many times he reread them.
His stomach twisted, but he ignored it.
Just finish the assignment.
Then maybe…
No. It still wasn’t good enough.
The bathroom door creaked open, letting warm steam drift into the room.
Cooper stepped out, fresh from the shower, absently drying his damp hair with a towel. He smiled the second he saw Oliver still sitting at the desk.
“You’re still awake?” he asked, amusement laced through his tired voice.
Oliver didn’t answer right away. He glanced up for only a moment before his eyes dropped back to the screen.
“I just need to finish this.”
Cooper walked over and rested a gentle hand against the back of Oliver’s head, running his fingers lightly through his hair. It was something he’d always done whenever Oliver got too wrapped up in his work.
“It’s late, babe,” Cooper murmured. “Come to bed.”
“Hold on,” Oliver replied, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Just let me finish this real quick.”
He sounded exhausted.
Truthfully, he felt worse than exhausted.
His head pounded. His hands trembled every time they hovered over the keyboard, and concentrating felt like trying to think through thick fog. He hadn’t eaten all day—not that Cooper knew that.
He couldn’t know.
Cooper frowned, studying him for a moment longer.
“You look really pale, amor.” His voice softened. “You okay?”
Oliver’s fingers froze over the keyboard.
“I’m fine.”
The words came out sharper than he intended.
Cooper blinked, caught off guard.
Silence settled between them.
Oliver closed his eyes and let out a slow breath.
“…Sorry,” he whispered, guilt settling heavily in his chest. “I’m sorry. It’s just… it’s been a long day.”
Cooper stood there for a moment, studying Oliver’s face.
“…Okay,” he said quietly.
Oliver gave a short nod, relieved that the conversation seemed to be over.
“Just don’t stay up too late.”
“I won’t.”
Cooper smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss into Oliver’s hair before disappearing toward the kitchen.
Oliver waited until he heard cabinet doors opening before letting out the breath he’d been holding.
Too close.
He turned back to his laptop, but the equations refused to make sense. The words blurred together, his head throbbing with every passing second. His stomach cramped sharply, and he instinctively wrapped an arm around it before forcing himself to ignore it.
Just finish the assignment.
Then you can think about eating.
If you deserve it.
A warm smell slowly filled the apartment.
Garlic.
Fresh herbs.
Something buttery sizzling in a pan.
Oliver squeezed his eyes shut.
Of course Cooper was cooking.
Ever since he’d decided he wanted to go to culinary school, the kitchen had practically become his second home. Every other day he was trying a new recipe, tweaking seasonings, or asking Oliver to taste-test whatever he’d made.
Normally, Oliver loved it.
Lately…
Lately he’d become an expert at finding excuses.
A few minutes later, Cooper leaned against the bedroom doorway, balancing two bowls in his hands.
“Dinner break?” he asked with a grin.
Oliver didn’t even look up.
“I already ate.”
There was a tiny pause.
“Oh.”
Cooper’s smile faltered for just a second.
“When?”
“Earlier.”
“At school?”
“Mhm.”
“What’d you have?”
Oliver’s fingers stopped moving.
“…I don’t know.”
Cooper laughed softly.
“You don’t know?”
“I wasn’t really paying attention.”
“Hm.”
Oliver finally looked over.
Cooper wasn’t accusing him of anything.
If anything, he just looked… confused.
“Well,” Cooper said, forcing another smile, “I made way too much pasta. You sure you don’t want some?”
“It looks good.”
“But?”
“I’m just… full.”
“Gotcha.”
Cooper nodded like he believed him.
“I’ll save you some in the fridge.”
Oliver smiled weakly.
“Thanks.”
“Anytime, amor.”
Cooper disappeared again, leaving Oliver alone with the smell of fresh pasta lingering in the air.
His stomach growled almost immediately.
He pressed a hand against it.
Stop.
⸻
Over the next week, little moments started piling up.
Oliver left the apartment before Cooper woke up most mornings.
By the time Cooper got home from soccer practice or class, Oliver always claimed he’d already eaten.
The leftovers Cooper packed into containers stayed untouched in the fridge.
He figured Oliver was just stressed.
Midterms were coming up.
College applications were getting closer.
Oliver had always been the kind of person who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Still…
Something didn’t sit right.
One Saturday afternoon, Cooper stood in the kitchen flipping grilled cheese sandwiches while tomato soup simmered on the stove.
“Food’s almost ready!” he called.
There was no answer.
He wandered into the living room to find Oliver curled up on the couch with a textbook resting against his knees.
“Oli?”
“Hm?”
“You hungry?”
Oliver didn’t even glance up.
“Not really.”
Cooper frowned.
“You skipped breakfast.”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“And lunch?”
“I… grabbed something.”
“What’d you get?”
Oliver answered a little too fast.
“A sandwich.”
“From where?”
Oliver hesitated.
“…The café.”
“The one by campus?”
“Yeah.”
Cooper nodded slowly.
“Was it good?”
Oliver blinked.
“…Yeah.”
“What kind?”
Oliver’s stomach twisted.
“Why are you asking so many questions?”
Cooper raised his hands.
“I’m just making conversation.”
Oliver immediately felt guilty.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
Cooper walked over and sat beside him, resting an arm along the back of the couch.
“I just worry about you.”
“I’m fine.”
“I know.”
Cooper smiled gently.
“I just miss eating with you.”
Oliver’s chest tightened.
He remembered when dinner used to be their favorite part of the day.
Cooper would insist on trying some ridiculous recipe he’d found online, dramatically presenting it like he was on a cooking show while Oliver rated everything with fake seriousness.
Now every invitation felt like another test he was terrified of failing.
“You’ve been cooking a lot lately,” Oliver said quietly, trying to change the subject.
Cooper’s face lit up.
“I know! I made this roasted garlic soup yesterday and I think I finally got it right.”
Oliver smiled despite himself.
“I still think you’re putting way too much garlic in everything.”
Cooper gasped dramatically.
“Take that back.”
“I won’t.”
“Oh, so we’re insulting the future culinary student now?”
A real laugh escaped Oliver.
For a moment, everything felt normal again.
Cooper smiled too.
But as Oliver laughed, Cooper noticed how loose the sleeves of Oliver’s sweatshirt had become around his wrists.
It was probably nothing.
…Right?
He told himself he was overthinking it.
Still, as he headed back toward the kitchen, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling settling in his chest.
The uneasy feeling followed Cooper for the rest of the day.
Not enough to make him panic.
Not enough to make him confront Oliver.
Just enough to make him pay closer attention.
And Cooper hated that.
Because Oliver was supposed to be the person he could read better than anyone. The person whose little habits he knew by heart.
He knew Oliver tapped his fingers when he was nervous.
He knew Oliver hummed quietly when he was happy.
He knew Oliver would pretend he didn’t care about compliments, but his whole face would light up whenever Cooper told him he was proud of him.
But lately, there were things Cooper couldn’t figure out.
Like why Oliver seemed more tired every day.
Or why he always insisted he was “fine” before Cooper even asked.
Or why every time Cooper made one of his favorite meals, Oliver smiled and said it looked amazing…
but never actually joined him.
⸻
That night, Cooper found Oliver sitting on the floor of their room surrounded by notebooks.
Again.
“You’re going to destroy your brain, you know,” Cooper joked.
Oliver looked up and smiled.
“I’m pretty sure that’s impossible.”
“You’re studying at midnight. I’m pretty sure you’re testing that theory.”
Oliver rolled his eyes.
“You sound like my mom.”
“Wow.”
Cooper put a hand over his chest dramatically.
“That is the worst thing anyone has ever said to me.”
A small laugh escaped Oliver.
There it was.
That was the smile Cooper loved.
The one that made everything feel lighter.
Cooper walked over and sat beside him on the floor.
“You know you don’t have to be doing something every second, right?”
Oliver shrugged.
“I just want to do well.”
“I know.”
Cooper bumped his shoulder gently against Oliver’s.
“But you already do well.”
Oliver looked down.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
Cooper’s voice softened.
“I see how hard you try.”
For a moment, Oliver didn’t say anything.
Then, quietly, he asked, “What if it’s not enough?”
The question was so small Cooper almost missed it.
His expression changed.
“Oliver.”
Immediately, Oliver shook his head.
“No, never mind. Forget I said that.”
“Hey.”
Cooper reached over and gently took the pencil from Oliver’s hand, setting it aside.
“Look at me.”
Oliver hesitated before looking up.
“You don’t have to earn me.”
The words hit harder than Oliver expected.
“What?”
“You don’t have to be the smartest person in the room. You don’t have to have perfect grades. You don’t have to impress everyone all the time.”
Cooper smiled softly.
“I already picked you.”
Oliver’s throat tightened.
“Cooper…”
“I’m serious.”
Cooper leaned his head against Oliver’s shoulder.
“I like you when you’re stressed and grumpy. I like you when you talk way too much about random facts. I like you when you get excited about something and forget anyone else is in the room.”
Oliver smiled a little.
“That’s a lot of things.”
“Yeah.”
Cooper grinned.
“Good thing I have a lot of things to like.”
Oliver shook his head, but he couldn’t hide the smile on his face.
For a few minutes, they just sat there.
No assignments.
No pressure.
No expectations.
Just them.
⸻
The next morning, Cooper woke up earlier than usual.
He had an idea.
Not a solution.
He knew better than that.
But maybe something small.
Something that reminded Oliver that food didn’t have to be a test.
It could just be something good.
Something shared.
Cooper quietly made breakfast, trying not to wake him.
He made pancakes—not because they were difficult or impressive, but because Oliver always used to steal bites straight from the plate before Cooper was even finished cooking.
When Oliver walked into the kitchen, hair messy and eyes still tired, he stopped.
“You made pancakes?”
Cooper turned around with a proud smile.
“I did.”
“At eight in the morning?”
“I contain multitudes.”
Oliver laughed.
“That’s not how that works.”
“I don’t know, future culinary student. Maybe it is.”
Oliver shook his head and sat at the counter.
Cooper didn’t push.
He didn’t make a big deal out of it.
He just poured two glasses of orange juice and sat across from him.
“So,” Cooper said casually, “I was thinking.”
“That’s always dangerous.”
“Rude.”
Oliver smiled.
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
Cooper smiled back.
“I was thinking that after we finish studying today, we should do something fun.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.”
Cooper shrugged.
“Movie night. Board games. We could bake something and completely ruin it.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow.
“You? Ruin baking?”
“It has happened.”
“When?”
“That’s classified information.”
Oliver laughed again.
And Cooper decided that was enough for now.
Because even though he still had questions…
even though something felt wrong…
he wanted Oliver to remember one thing.
He wasn’t alone.
Not in the stress.
Not in the fear.
Not in whatever battle he was quietly fighting.
And Cooper would be right there beside him, one small moment at a time.
The next few days were the hardest for Cooper.
Not because Oliver was acting different.
Because Oliver was acting like nothing was different at all.
And that scared him more.
Cooper noticed the little things.
The way Oliver would push food around his plate and claim he wasn’t hungry.
The way the meals Cooper made would sit untouched in the fridge.
The way Oliver always had a reason ready.
“I ate earlier.”
“I grabbed something between classes.”
“I’m just not hungry right now.”
At first, Cooper believed him.
Because why wouldn’t he?
This was Oliver.
His Oliver.
The person who always had an explanation for everything, the person who seemed to have his whole life planned out years in advance.
But then Cooper started noticing the pattern.
And patterns didn’t lie.
⸻
Friday night, Cooper had spent almost an hour making dinner.
Nothing fancy.
Just something warm.
Something he knew Oliver liked.
Cooking had always been Cooper’s way of showing love. Ever since he started looking into culinary school, he found himself happiest when he could make something for the people he cared about.
Especially Oliver.
He wanted Oliver to walk into the kitchen, smile, and sit down with him like they used to.
But when dinner was ready, Oliver never came.
“Oliver?” Cooper called from the kitchen.
A few seconds passed.
“One second!”
Cooper sighed softly.
He found Oliver sitting at his desk, surrounded by papers and textbooks.
“Food’s ready.”
Oliver didn’t look away from his assignment.
“I’m not hungry.”
Cooper froze.
Not because of the words.
Because of how quickly they came.
Like he’d already prepared the answer.
“Oliver.”
“What?”
Cooper stepped into the room.
“When did you last eat?”
The question made Oliver stop typing.
“What?”
“When did you last eat?”
Oliver looked back at his screen.
“I don’t know.”
Cooper’s stomach dropped.
“You don’t know?”
“I mean, I ate.”
“Okay.”
Cooper nodded slowly.
“When?”
Oliver was quiet.
“Earlier.”
“Earlier today?”
Another pause.
Cooper didn’t need an answer.
His heart sank.
“Oliver…”
“I’m fine.”
There it was again.
The words Cooper was starting to hate hearing.
“I’m fine.”
Oliver finally turned around.
“Why are you making this a big deal?”
“Because I care about you.”
“I’m not doing anything wrong.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
Cooper’s voice softened.
“I’m just worried.”
Oliver looked away.
“I’ve been busy.”
“I know.”
“I have school.”
“I know.”
“I have a lot going on.”
“I know.”
Cooper took a breath.
“But you’ve been skipping meals, Oliver.”
The room went completely silent.
Oliver’s face changed.
Just for a second.
But Cooper saw it.
The guilt.
The fear.
The way Oliver suddenly looked like he wanted to disappear.
“I haven’t.”
Cooper didn’t argue.
He didn’t want Oliver to feel attacked.
Instead, he sat down beside him.
“Okay.”
Oliver looked at him, almost surprised.
“Okay?”
“Yeah.”
Cooper nodded.
“I’m not going to sit here and fight you.”
A pause.
“But I need you to know something.”
Oliver stayed quiet.
“I notice when you don’t eat.”
Oliver swallowed.
“I notice when you get tired. I notice when you stop being yourself.”
His voice cracked slightly.
“And I notice when you’re trying to convince me you’re okay because you don’t want me to worry.”
Oliver’s eyes dropped.
“I just…”
His voice was barely above a whisper.
“I didn’t want you to think I was difficult.”
Cooper’s expression softened immediately.
“Oliver.”
He turned toward him.
“You could never be difficult for me.”
Oliver blinked quickly.
“I just wanted to be better.”
“Better?”
“Better at everything.”
Oliver looked down at his hands.
“I thought if I could just control something, if I could just get everything right, then maybe I’d stop feeling like I wasn’t enough.”
Cooper’s chest hurt.
Not because he was angry.
Because he wished Oliver had told him sooner.
“You know what I see?”
Oliver looked up.
“I see someone who’s been trying so hard for so long that he forgot he deserves to be taken care of too.”
Oliver’s eyes watered.
“I don’t know how to stop.”
Cooper reached for his hand.
“Then don’t do it alone.”
Oliver looked at their hands.
“I don’t want you to worry about me.”
“I already do.”
Cooper gave him a small, sad smile.
“Because I love you.”
The words sat between them.
Simple.
Honest.
“I don’t need you to be perfect, Oliver.”
Cooper squeezed his hand.
“I just need you here.”
For the first time all night, Oliver didn’t have an excuse.
He didn’t have an explanation.
He just leaned into Cooper, letting himself be held.
And Cooper stayed.
Because he wasn’t going anywhere.